I just went to the first Mets game in their playoff series against the Phillies. The game was in Philly, but I stayed local and joined thousands of fans at the Citi Field watch party. Even though we were just watching a broadcast on the Jumbotron, the energy was unreal. You’d think you’d need to be at the actual game to feel that intensity, but trust me, that’s not the case. The cheers, the chants, the boos—they all created this shared moment that made it feel like we were actually part of the action. It was one of those experiences where you realize the power of the crowd, not just as spectators, but as an integral part of the game.
One of the weirdest things, though, was how we were cheering and booing for a game happening miles away. In a regular game, players feed off the crowd’s energy, but here, we weren’t influencing anything. And yet, we still stood up, shouted, and waved our arms as if the Mets could hear us. It was this surreal reminder of how much fans actually create the atmosphere of a game, even when the players aren’t there. It wasn’t about them—it was about us. The fans were what made Citi Field come alive that night.
Then I remembered that in addition to “Let’s go Mets!” one of the other favorite cheers of Mets fans was “Yankees suck!” It didn’t matter that the Yankees had nothing to do with this game; it’s just part of being a Mets fan. These chants weren’t for the players—they were for us. They connected us, gave us something to focus on, and reminded us that, win or lose, we’re part of something bigger than just what’s happening on the screen.
The 10,000 fans at Citi Field transformed the experience into something so much bigger. Our energy didn’t change the game’s outcome, but it changed how we experienced it. When we were on our feet, doing the wave or booing a bad call, it wasn’t for the players—it was for the collective experience. That’s what fan culture is all about.
The highs and lows of the game felt bigger, more intense, because I was sharing those moments with thousands of other fans. There’s something about being in a crowd that changes everything. It’s not just you feeling excitement or frustration—it’s the whole crowd, feeding off each other’s energy. It’s what psychologists call “emotional contagion,” where emotions like excitement or disappointment ripple through the crowd like a wave. And that’s exactly what happened at Citi Field.
The stadium was in a dull pain for most of the game. The Phillies hit a home run with their first batter while Zach Wheeler shut down the Mets for the first 7 innings. It wasn’t just a quiet frustration; it was like the whole crowd was collectively holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. Then, in the 8th inning, the Mets finally woke up, scoring 6 runs. Harrison Bader’s standout moment came when he stole second and was initially called out, only for the call to be reversed after the second baseman fumbled the ball. The crowd went wild. The tension broke, and the crowd erupted in a shared moment of joy and relief. The cheers, the standing ovations, we even did the wave. All of it came alive in a burst of energy.
Since the game was on Fox Sports, we got to see plenty of commercials during the breaks, and honestly, the crowd reactions to the ads were almost as interesting as the game itself. A Trump commercial came on, and the stadium erupted—half the crowd was cheering, and the other half was booing. Then, a Kamala Harris ad played, and the response was noticeably quieter, almost like the air had been let out of the room. It was fascinating to see how the crowd reacted. It’s the kind of thing you can’t experience at home.
Being a fan is more than watching the game—it’s about being part of something bigger. The chants, the traditions, the collective energy make the experience unique, whether you’re in the stadium or watching from afar. That night, we weren’t just spectators—we were part of the game, even though it was played in another city.
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